


Oh, To Be Alone With You

by gwendy1



Series: NSFW Year of Shance Unconnected Prompt Fills [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftercare, Enthusiastic Consent, First Dates, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Making Love, Mutual Pining, Sex Pollen, Year of Shance 2019, accidental date
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 10:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17959133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwendy1/pseuds/gwendy1
Summary: Lance and Shiro get to spend some time alone together while on a diplomatic mission. With sexy results. ;)This is for several February NSFW prompts for Year of Shance!





	Oh, To Be Alone With You

**Author's Note:**

> For YOS. I know it's cutting it close, but I've still got 30 minutes of February left, so I hope this counts even if I'll have to post chapter 2 in March.
> 
> FFS, it’s hard to come up with alien-sounding names for extra-terrestrial planets/people/food/etc. I’m hoping none of these made up words are actually something in some other very real human language that I don’t know about. If they are, many apologies.
> 
> Also, I may have listened to a lot of Hozier while writing this.

“Team Meeting time!” Hunk calls out, taking a seat at some monitors on the bridge. “I’m here. Everybody here?”  
  
“Shiro’s not here yet,” Pidge answers, still sprawled out in an exhausted slump across the floor. Which can’t be comfortable. These floors aren’t even carpeted. “Kinda surprised. He’s usually already here when the meetings are called.”  
  
Keith speaks up, “He’s on his way. Just needed a moment. Guys, I don’t think he’s getting enough sleep.” He’s concerned and with good reason to be.  
  
“I think that last mission really got to him,” Lance says, frowning. “Plus, he pulled some major weight, saving most of our asses. It’s a lot of pressure. He might just need some time. Maybe a low key mission for a change. Something upbeat.”  
  
“Hmm,” Allura takes note, “I do happen to have something a bit happier for a change. Though, only a couple of you can be spared. The rest will have a separate mission that will unfortunately take us quite a distance away and is a matter of urgent necessity.”  
  
Shiro strides in. “What did I miss?”  
  
“Two missions simultaneously,” Coran announces cheerfully, joining them from across the room.  
  
“Ugh,” Shiro takes a seat next to Keith, slumping down and clearly tired at the thought.  
  
“Not to worry, Shiro,” Allura reassures him, smiling. “You and—” she pauses, considering the options, before continuing, “Lance will both enjoy a diplomatic mission, accepting a gesture of goodwill from the Fanta people, who have extended an invitation to us since joining the Coalition.”  
  
Pidge interrupts briefly, “Fanta? Like the drink?” Hunk and Lance chuckle.  
  
Allura raises an eyebrow, but goes on, “The rest of us will need to wormhole to New Praxia to resupply for urgently needed parts.”  
  
“Yeah,” Hunk piped in. “We’ve been lucky so far, but we can’t keep running on fumes. We need repair parts. Desperately,” he emphasized.  
  
“We can return to Fanta afterwards to pick you both up and be on our way,” Allura concludes.  
  
Shiro nods, relieved both groups will be dealing with lighter-than-usual missions. “Sounds good.”  
  
——  
  
Lush vegetation and soothing streams of water greet their eyes.  
  
“Nice,” Lance remarks softly, welcoming a change of pace from the dry and harsh climates they had been faced with of late. He guides the Blue Lion in steadily.  
  
“Yeah,” Shiro agrees, voice lowered in awed appreciation, while watching their calm descent from over Lance’s shoulder. If this trip for reinforcing diplomatic good will goes well, they might finally have time to relax, take a breath, and enjoy the scenery for once.  
  
Lance sighs quietly in relief when he sees the clearing at the edge of a town up ahead. A bit of tension leaves his shoulders. It’s not that he doesn’t trust the directions he was given. It’s just that he doesn’t always trust himself to pilot smoothly while under Shiro’s confident gaze. Shiro has been his hero for a long time, but now that they’re teammates, it’s just… snowballed into this pulsing heat of a crush that he tries desperately to stifle so as not to embarrass himself. The last thing he wants to do is blunder piloting in front of him.  
  
Their landing’s a little rough, but it’s just a little harmless turbulence. Shiro looks down at Lance, who is blushing and has brought a palm up to cover his face while he groans. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Shiro smiles and places a reassuring hand on his shoulder, giving him a squeeze. “Practice makes perfect, remember? How about you and me get some flying in when we get back from this?”  
  
Lance drops his hand from his face and looks up, comforted by Shiro’s warm hand still on his shoulder, and interested at the prospect of them spending one-on-one time together. “Yeah?”  
  
Shiro chuckles, happy to see Lance come around. “Yeah! And maybe I’ll tell you about the time I crashed a test plane into a Major’s car.”  
  
“No way!” Lance gasps in delight. “Seriously?”  
  
Shiro grins and brings a hand up to clutch at the nape of his own neck, embarrassed but happy to admit, “I wasn’t always a good pilot.”  
  
Lance beams, standing up and returning his gesture of reassurance - squeezing Shiro’s shoulder. “Well, you’re a pretty great one now.”  
  
“Thanks,” Shiro replies, amazed as always at Lance’s resilience and kindness. He glances at the sensor readings and gets them back on track, “Air quality looks good.” He tucks his helmut under his arm.  
  
Lance does the same. “Let’s do this.”  
  
Walking down the ramp and exiting the Blue Lion, they see a small gathering of humanoid shaped aliens at the edge of the clearing. They bear some resemblance to Allura and Coran, only the species greeting them are bright green and have dark hair.  
  
“Welcome, Paladins of Voltron!” One of them calls out, walking up to them with open arms. “We are honored to host you on our planet for even a short visit. I am the Supreme Lord Gadjyrose,” he goes on to say, “here to represent the Council of Fanta and welcome you on your stay.”  
  
Shiro and Lance each clasp arms with him briefly, the customary friendly but professional greeting.  
  
“The Voltron Coalition is very grateful to have the support of Fanta, your Supreme Lordship,” Shiro replies. “We are honored to accept the goodwill of Fanta and it’s Council.”  
  
Lance stands beside Shiro, supportive but looking forward to getting through all this bureaucratic stuff. He’s not the best with authority figures. But usually, it just means attending a ceremony and accepting some kind of trinket without offending anybody. The sooner they get through this, the less likely it is to go wrong.  
  
“Please, call me Gadjyrose. The title is a title for serious and officious times and we are allies now, enjoying times of goodwill.” Gadjyrose laughs joyfully. “We know you must be used to our neighboring planets with their formal ceremonies and strict adherence to ritual, but the Fanta people are more relaxed on such matters these days. We enjoy a vibrant tourism economy and have invited you to partake of our finest dining and accommodations.” He extends a welcoming hand towards the buildings behind him.  
  
“Oh,” Shiro smiles, sharing a wide-eyed look of pleasant surprise with Lance. “Thank you. That’s a very wonderful surprise.”  
  
“If there’s anything you require to improve your enjoyment during this time, let one of the staff know and we will assist you.” Gadjyrose says, while one of the Fantans accompanying him hands both Shiro and Lance a cold drink. “Now, let’s give you the tour and show you to where you’ll be staying.”  
  
Lance ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ over the amenities throughout the tour, while Shiro is more quietly pleased but tempted to give into Lance’s enthusiasm. The swanky little cottage-like structure they’ll be staying in is certainly nice.  
  
At the end of the tour, Lance flops back onto a big plush lounging chair. “Did you see that buffet? Hunk is going to be so jealous! We’ll have to come back here.”  
  
Shiro smiles, peeking into a bedroom with a huge bed and what looks like a big free-standing tub in the corner. “Yeah, but that place was busy. How about we try the quieter restaurant with the view of the waterfall?”  
  
“Fancy!” Lance waggles an eyebrow at Shiro. “A packed place is how you know the food’s good! But yeah, we’ll do the quieter one now,” he concedes. “We can hit the buffet tomorrow morning.”  
  
——  
  
When they’re seated right next to the giant floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the waterfall, they both gaze in awe. Their timing was perfect, too. The sun was just setting, giving them a fantastically gorgeous view.  
  
“Now, this is a premiere dining experience.” Lance grins softly and looks over at Shiro while scooting his chair closer to the table. And wow, Lance can’t remember ever getting a two-person table before. It’s kind of intimate. Just the two of them. It’s nice.  
  
Shiro smiles at Lance, soothed somehow by his child-like awe, and shuffles his own chair closer. His bulk feels a little unwieldy compared to the small table. Shiro’s foot bumps Lance’s under the table, and he mutters an apology, blushing. Oh god, don’t let this get awkward. Shiro can already feel himself fidgeting, uncomfortably reminded of dates gone wrong. And this is definitely a date atmosphere. Why did he pick this place, again? The faint rushing sound of water filters in and calms away some of his reflexive panic. Oh yeah, that’s why.  
  
They each try focusing on the menu, but laugh, realizing at the same time that they don’t understand the language.  
  
“Oh, man,” Lance chuckles, looking around at the various plates of food the other restaurant-goers are eating. “Hunk would know what to order.”  
  
Shiro glances around, spotting some familiar meal options. “Well, that blue stuff he’s having over there is pretty good.”  
  
Lance looks over at where Shiro’s directing his eyes. “Oh, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah,” Shiro shrugs, somewhat sheepish. “I remember them feeding us some of that a few times. When I was captured,” he recalls haltingly. “It tasted like fish.” And it hadn’t caused him any stomach upset, so it was probably a safe food choice.  
  
Lance pauses to tenderly gaze at Shiro - cherishing that he’s opened up to him about a clearly painful time - and then he brightens, on familiar ground. “More salty or less salty? Are we talking tuna-like? Salmon? Or something kind of shell-fishy ‘cause I’m less okay with that.”  
  
Shiro laughs lightly. “Definitely not shell-fishy. More salmon-like, so not that salty either. So, you’re used to eating a lot of fish?”  
  
“Grew up in the Caribbean before my family moved closer to the Garrison,” Lance shares with a nod, glowing. “We ate a lot of seafood. My mom makes the best fish tacos!” He grins and boasts.  
  
“Oh,” Shiro groans under his breath - viscerally missing home at the sense memory invoked, “Fish _tacos_! I miss those. I mostly grew up on sushi.” He shakes his head while grinning, enjoying the excuse to recollect.  
  
Lance is taken aback, flustered at Shiro’s deep groan, but hides it the best he can. Don’t want to react too strongly and make things weird. He sighs, leaning forward to rest his chin on his palm and focus on the conversation. “I miss home. The food and all. But mostly, just seeing my family.”  
  
Shiro’s smile tightens in sympathy. “Yeah. I do too.” He leans closer and rests his forearms on the table.  
  
Their waiter approaches, two out of four arms filling glasses with water for each of them, and the other two arms holding a pad ready to take their order. “Welcome, gentlemen. I’ll be your waiter for the evening. Have you decided your orders?”  
  
Shiro raises his eyebrows, and meets Lance’s eyes, waiting for a signal to indicate if he’s decided.  
  
Lance locks gazes with Shiro and nods, agreeing to his earlier suggestion. It had certainly looked delicious on the other table’s plate.  
  
“Yes, we’d both like to have what they’re having,” Shiro answers, gesturing with a shift of his head and eyes to the dish of light blue meat a couple tables down.  
  
“Ah,” the waiter waves the pad to point subtly at the correct meal, “our fresh marprika?”  
  
Shiro and Lance both nod.  
  
Order confirmed, he inputs the order into the pad, “A fine choice. That’s one of our chef’s specialties.” Then he pauses to ask, “And for sides, we have steamed chokspa or pilricen - what would each of you like?”  
  
Shiro answers with, “The steamed chokspa,” while Lance responds, “Pilricen.” The waiter marks their orders down, assures them it will only be short wait, and departs.  
  
Like-minded, they each pick up on the same idea. “This way we have two chances at a side that’s edible,” Shiro says, while Lance grins and ducks his head in firm agreement.  
  
“Yeah,” Lance peeks over at Shiro with a playful expression. “We can share. And at least this way, one of our sides can’t be any worse than that time we all had to eat Biklofluss rations on that outer moon post.”  
  
Shiro huffs with held-back laughter. “That was horrible. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Hunk curse until then.”  
  
Lance beams. “I’d never heard it ’til then either.”  
  
Shiro basks in Lance’s joy, shyly taking in the rosy flush of his cheeks and the breathtaking blue of his eyes when they light up. Just having a chance to observe him from this up close and personal is sending butterflies of nerves spinning through him. There’s just something about Lance’s wild and happy personality that makes him feel young. Safe. Free to let go of the worries that weigh down his shoulders.  
  
Reaching to take a sip from his glass, Shiro busies his hands and distracts his senses with cool, refreshing, water.  
  
Lance is blown away by the scenery - the picturesque waterfall and the gorgeous sunset - but he can’t help lingering more over watching Shiro, discreetly studying his every move, as if memorizing the moment to reminisce over later. Which, yeah - he’s definitely not going to get over being on an almost date with Shiro anytime soon. And the chance to just visually devour him from this close is too good to pass up. He’s an arm’s length away. Lance could just reach out and touch him. Run the pads of his fingers over the hand Shiro has settled on the table, and just feel him. Skin to skin.  
  
The waiter returns, three hands full, and sets down each of their meals in front of them, before also setting down a bowl of—  
  
“Is that bread?” Lance gasps, excited.  
  
“It is baked lufterwoo,” he says, surprised by Lance’s enthused response. “Enjoy your meals.”  
  
“Thank you,” Shiro smiles gratefully at the waiter as he leaves.  
  
“Oh my god. Shiro!” Lance exclaims, grabbing his attention and a roll of baked good at the same time. “I think this is bread!” He takes a bite.  
  
“Is it good?” Shiro asks, eager. Good food is hard to come by in space. And any light and fluffy baked goods like bread are rare and worth relishing.  
  
“Mmmm,” Lance groans, tastebuds singing with satisfaction. “It tastes like some kind of honey cinnamon bread.” He takes a bigger bite.  
  
Shiro tries the baked lufterwoo, and moans a little. Yeah, that’s the taste of good bread.  
  
Lance swallows. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell the others about the bread,” he suggests. “They’re going to be jealous enough as it is.”  
  
Quirking an eyebrow, Shiro smirks, and indulges. “It can be our secret.”  
  
And, oh. That shoots a bolt of heat through Lance. The realization that he’s sharing something with Shiro. Something just for them.  
  
Shiro picks up his fork-like utensil, but stops in confusion. There’s fork-like tines at both ends of the thing. “Which side are we supposed to use?” he asks, glancing speculatively down at the lightly grilled salmon-like meat and the steamed chokspa which resemble leafy vegetables.  
  
Lance considers his own plate of light blue meat and pilricen which turns out to be something that looks an awful lot like rice seasoned with some kind of sauce. He picks up the closest approximation of a fork and looks around. “Well,” he observes, “everyone else seems to be switching back and forth between either side. So, we could probably use whichever works the best.”  
  
Shiro confirms the assessment. “Yeah, I can’t find any pattern to it. We should be fine.” It pays to check, though. This is a diplomatic mission and you never know when unknowingly challenging a cultural norm is going to cause problems, after all. Shiro smiles softly at Lance, remembering the time when he saved the Voltron Coalition in one of the early near-disasters of culture clash during diplomatic talks. Lance had been the one to pick up on the pattern in their gestures and save Shiro from making an accidentally offensive one into an even bigger debacle. He was adept at smoothing ruffled egos and negotiating. Knowing he can rely on Lance, Shiro can feel himself relaxing and enjoying himself for a change. It’s comforting and nice, just having this time. Just the two of them.  
  
He tries his side first, already having an idea what the meat tastes like. “Mm.” It tastes like buttery bok choy.  
  
“Mm, this is so good.” Lance savors his mouthful of meat. “It tastes great with the sauce. You’ve got to try this,” he says, and pushes his plate closer to Shiro.  
  
Shiro finishes chewing and swallows, before pushing his own plate closer to Lance. “Here, try mine,” he replies and takes a forkful of blue meat, dipping it into the sauce, and eating it. “Mm, that’s good.”  
  
“Oh, that’s buttery,” Lance hums in response to Shiro’s side. “Between that and the bread stuff, I think I’m in heaven.”  
  
And back and forth they go, sharing a delicious meal.  
  
Lance feels Shiro’s leg nudge against him, their legs having somehow become tangled around each other. But instead of pulling away, Shiro presses his leg closer and nudges him again with his knee. Shiro pushes his now almost empty plate towards Lance, still chewing, but nodding at the last bite of buttery chokspa, clearly indicating that he thinks Lance should have it.  
  
Lance is helplessly charmed. “You’re sure?” He grins while Shiro swallows and washes down the rest of his drink. “Hmm, okay. But only because I saw you sneak the last of the sauce from the plate,” Lance smirks and winks at Shiro, before finishing off the last bite - both of their plates now empty.  
  
Shiro blushes at the wink, ducking his head but failing to hide the pink flush or bright smile.  
  
And Lance can barely contain himself. This time alone together is showing him that Shiro is bashfully sweet and so much more shy than he had ever imagined. Discovering this is such a delight and the trip is not even over yet. How is he going to last the rest of it without throwing himself on Shiro? Maybe he can try flirting a bit more? Judging by how the length of his legs are still tangled warmly with Shiro’s and neither of them seem inclined to disentangle them, he might have a chance here. And the thought! The mere thought that he stands a shot at starting something with Shiro sends the pulsing heat of arousal burning hotter. Even though he’s just finished a big meal, he feels hungry. He’s so hungry to reach out and taste Shiro’s mouth, he’s not sure how he can get up from this table without embarrassing himself.  
  
Bemused, Shiro realizes this non-date is probably the best date he’s ever been on. And he holds back desperately on the impulse to lean over and just kiss Lance. He doesn’t want to be the one to initiate anything. As a leader in the team and someone who’s at least a bit older than the rest of the paladins, it’s probably a fast ticket to complications and awkwardness that could compromise their team dynamic. He should be setting an example, right? Not turning into a lovesick mess. But his own body defies him, having grown progressively more tangled with Lance’s legs under the table. And he can’t bring himself to pull away. He can feel Lance’s long slender legs pressed along his own. It’s so intimate, he’s shocked at the impropriety. And he can feel himself on the precipice of control, need clamoring to take over. Lance’s legs curl a little tighter around his and Shiro feels like he’s about to snap.  
  
The waiter interrupts, taking their empty plates. “Glad to see you have enjoyed your meals! Your bill has been taken care of by the Council and we wish you a lovely evening, Paladins.”  
  
——  
  
They somehow managed to detangle themselves and exit the restaurant. And now they find themselves walking together back towards their cottage in awkwardly charged silence. Which you would think might allow them to pay attention to the path they’re walking.  
  
Shiro is busy feeling torn apart by internal conflict. Are they both feeling this attraction? Is it too soon to feel anticipation? Are they going to start something when they get back to the cottage? Or are they going to just awkwardly say goodnight to each other and retire to their own rooms?  
  
His foot catches on a root from a tree protruding into the path. Shiro’s momentum throws his weight past the tree but his caught foot twists him mid-fall. And Shiro finds himself tumbling over the edge of the path and down the hillside it sat atop. He hits several small plants and some sturdier larger ones but they only slow him and send him bouncing into the mass of vegetation at the bottom of the hill and at the edge of dense jungle. Shiro comes to a stop wedged against a thick growth of extremely large flowers.  
  
“Shiro!” Lance shouts, dashing after him to help and carefully climbing down the hill. When he reaches Shiro at the bottom, he asks, “Are you okay?”  
  
Shiro sits up and laughs it off. He’s not hurt. “Just embarrassed,” he admits.  
  
Lance offers him a hand up and when Shiro clasps onto him, he grips him tight with both hands and pulls him up to stand.  
  
They stand, panting.  
  
And then a giant flower bud that’s level with their heads suddenly moves.  
  
It blooms open and expels a burst of pollen. Poof, it goes. Right into their faces. They duck their heads away and turn but it’s too late.  
  
Coughing, they both scramble to wipe the pollen dust from their faces.  
  
Shiro blinks emphatically, brushing the pollen away from his eyes and nose. “What the…?”  
  
“Oh, shit!” Lance decries, knowing this stuff can’t be good. The initial tingling sensation produced by contact starts to feel like it’s skyrocketing his body temperature - a fever heat sending his heart racing.  
  
“Oh, no,” Shiro wipes newly formed sweat from his temple, feeling the rush of increased body heat.  
  
Lance continues to brush himself off even though he thinks he got it all. But then he looks over at Shiro and sees a colorful smudge of it still on Shiro’s mouth and chin. He reaches out and rubs at Shiro’s mouth, brushing away the pollen.  
  
Shocked by the feel of Lance’s hand on his lips, Shiro stares back at him. And then he notices a trail of pollen on Lance’s neck, and sweeps his hand out to caress away the pollen.  
  
Lance arches into his touch and their eyes meet, the heat only enflaming their earlier restrained desire for each other. “We should go back to the cottage,” he says. “See if we can clean this off better.” There’s still trails of it they’ve each missed. Lance lets his hand fall away from Shiro’s mouth, but threads their fingers together with his other hand, clasping him tight and turning to head back up the hill.  
  
Shiro follows, but his pants grow more tight and uncomfortable the further up they climb. Instead of the discomfort staving off his arousal as he would expect, the painful tightness of his pants doesn’t seem to matter. He only grows harder. Shiro grimaces his way up the hill, his only comfort the hand in his and the anticipation of more. It’s unsettling, though. The extreme degree of his growing desperation. He’s not unexperienced and yet he’s never felt this intensely desperate. It feels like he’s going to combust at any moment and though it pains him, he acknowledges the obvious. “Perhaps we should go to the Blue Lion. We should consult Coran’s video reference guide on this planet’s hazards to see if this pollen is dangerous,” he manages to get out through gritted teeth as they reach the top of the hill, finally returned to the path.  
  
Lance pants increasingly loudly next to him. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I’m feeling like I could explode just standing here,” he admits, his face bright red as he reveals the state of his own pants, pulled painfully tight and tenting dramatically from his stiff erection. He definitely usually has more control than this. But it feels like he’s gonna crawl out of his skin if he doesn’t start getting down and dirty with Shiro right now. “Probably not normal.”  
  
They both take a second to adjust themselves before heading to the Blue Lion, which luckily is parked close to their cottage accommodations.  
  
By the time they reach the Lion, they are both starting to sweat uncomfortably.  
  
Lance fumbles with the controls, frantically searching through the reference guide files.  
  
Shiro, growing impatient, attempts to make contact with the rest of the team, but fails. Which was kind of expected, given the current distance between them. They do have a reference guide, though, from Coran on the region. He has to focus on that while pacing behind Lance to work off some of the pent up tension.  
  
Lance taps his foot nervously, until he finds the right video file. “Got it,” he says and presses Play.  
  
“So, you’ve been exposed to the Bammeruno plant’s pollen? You are in luck! This video could save your life!” Coran’s cheerful voice announces from the screen. And both Lance and Shiro lean in, awaiting this vital life-saving information. “The pollen of this plant has been known to cause heart failure! But—“ Unfortunately, static proceeds to cut in and out of the following message, “—must— …—sex— …—consult— …—or result in death! So, g—…—your partner—…—sexy results,” Coran finishes with a dramatic waggle of his eyebrow and wink at the camera. Shiro and Lance are both left staring in disbelief as the video ends.  
  
Lance plays the video again, but the same problem occurs - static cutting off any hopes of gaining a clearer understanding. Wide-eyed, Lance turns to Shiro, “I think if we don’t have sex, we could die.”  
  
Shiro’s breath gusts out of him. “Feels accurate,” he says, his heartbeat pounding louder in his ears. And maybe Shiro feels a little guilty at how _ecstatic_ he is to have an excuse to act on his feelings for Lance, but that doesn’t stop him from pulling Lance up against his body and kissing him wildly.


End file.
